Four

Sith Academy, Korriban

13 ATC

It was A'tro's first time back in the Sith Academy since she had killed Baras. She found herself the recipient of more than a few looks as she made her way through the corridors with two Imperial Guards in tow. Some, from older Sith and overseers, were speculative. The acolytes' reactions were largely fearful, while a few who likely had more ambition than sense eyed her with open envy. Those would not last. All bowed to her respectfully as she passed, however.

While an assembly of the entire Dark Council was rare, there were always a few of its members who regularly gathered on Korriban to discuss current affairs and play politics. That business would start in a few hours; until then, A'tro had a different appointment to keep.

She made her way through the mazelike halls with Janeth and Zariel trailing dutifully behind her. As they passed into one of the older parts of the Academy structure, the corridors narrowed considerably. The Guardsmen continued to walk shoulder to shoulder, forcing the few acolytes they encountered to stand against the nearest wall or be run down.

While not at all subtle, they added an entirely new element of intimidation to her presence. This could definitely be used to her advantage when dealing with the military or lesser Sith. She could not imagine why she would ever need to talk to any civilians, but the Guardsmen would probably be useful then, too.

Having reached her destination, an unmarked door deep in the lowest levels of the Academy, she turned to face her escort.

"You will wait outside until my business is concluded," she ordered.

"Yes, my lord," said Zariel, who seemed to speak for the two of them. Both bowed and moved to stand on either side of the door.

A'tro nodded once and moved up to the door. She ignored the keypad—a Dark Lord of the Sith went where she pleased, and had no need to ask for permission to enter. Instead, she grasped the door with the Force, undid the locking mechanism, and forced it open. As she stepped inside, she released her mental hold, and the door slid shut with a whirr of strained servomotors.

The room was long and narrow, barely wide enough to accommodate the standard-issue desk that sat about two meters back from where A'tro stood. A dark red carpet covered the floor, and the walls were adorned with several portions of stone friezes that, judging by the red coloration of the stone, had been chiseled directly off Korriban's tombs.

Behind the desk sat a Sith Pureblood woman dressed in traditional red and black robes. While A'tro knew she was in her late forties, there was little sign of ageing on her copper skin, which was just a few shades redder than A'tro's own. They had the same rust-colored hair, but there was only a trace resemblance between their faces, which was good. A'tro had no desire to be reminded of her relationship to this woman.

"Overseer," she said curtly. "I believe we have something to discuss."

Ravinia Dhakar looked up from the computer built into her desk. She smiled, an expression that did not reach her orange eyes. "I wondered when you would come by. It's been almost four years."

A'tro scowled. "You will address me with respect."

Ravinia inclined her head. "I apologize if I presumed…Lord Wrath. Even Lords of the Sith tend to relax the formalities with family."

A'tro's scowl deepened; the conversation was going exactly where she had known it would, and the fact that she had seen it coming was only making her more annoyed. "You may be my mother's sister, but that does not make us family. My title will be good enough for you, Overseer."

Ravinia's expression turned somber, though her eyes remained hungry. "Are you aware that your mother is dead, my lord?"

"Good riddance," A'tro snapped, her left wrist twinging softly in remembered pain. "I'm not here to chat about the past."

The ridges on Ravinia's brow lifted away from her eyes. "With, of course, all due respect, I was under the impression that you'd come here to discuss the debt you owe me."

"I did. So tell me, what exactly is it that you think you're going to get from me in return?"

Ravinia steepled her fingers together in front of her. "I have given the matter some thought."

"I'm sure you have," A'tro muttered.

"While I certainly enjoyed reaping the rewards of exposing a traitor to the Empire, concealing her apprentice's fate was no easy matter." Ravinia manipulated the controls of her computer. "I had to bribe the proper officials to have K'hera Dhakar declared dead, arrange for some semblance of documentation under your new name—it suits you, my lord—which required yet more bribes, arrange transportation… I have the expenses tallied here."

"If all you wanted from me were credits, we would have settled this matter years ago."

"Indeed." Ravinia made another entry on the computer. "I could have smuggled you off Dromund Kaas and left it at that, but I did not. I convinced Tremel to bring you here so that you had an opportunity to start your life over again and rise high among the Sith under a master who was not a Jedi spy, because I knew that you would eventually find yourself in a position to make it worth my while."

"Let me guess," A'tro said darkly. "You want power."

"Don't we all?" Ravinia smiled. "I've always fancied the sound of 'Lord Ravinia.' Perhaps some property, as well? Your father still lives in the old Dhakar estate, but surely a scholar doesn't need all that space—"

"No."

"'No'?" Ravinia echoed, her eyes widening. "You cannot refuse me, not after everything I've done for you!"

"Your assistance was useful, true. But I have no intention of giving you anything."

Ravinia smiled again, showing pointed teeth. "You are free to do as you like…my lord. It would be a shame, however, if the Dark Council were to learn that Darth Evendre's apprentice is still alive, under a new name, the disciple of a traitor in their very midst…"

"Do not presume to think that you can simply blackmail me," A'tro said coldly. "Any accusation you make will be your word against mine, and my word carries the authority of the Emperor himself."

"Not if I have proof—"

A'tro reached out with one hand, the dark side mimicking her gesture and seizing Ravinia by the throat. Her eyes went very wide, and her hands flew vainly to her neck. A'tro could feel her trying in vain to use the Force to dislodge her grip.

"It seems you misunderstand," A'tro told her. "Were I in any other position, I would likely be obligated to give you something in exchange for your silence. But I am the Emperor's Wrath, and to speak against me is treason."

She closed her hand into a fist and drew it towards her, lifting Ravinia out of her chair and throwing her to the ground in a heap at her feet.

"You will die now," A'tro said, and drew one lightsaber with her left hand.

Ravinia pushed herself up just enough to stare at A'tro. The hunger in her orange eyes had given way to fear. "Even a Dark Lord cannot simply execute an overseer of the Korriban Academy!"

"I killed your friend Tremel when I was only an acolyte. You'll be replaced easily enough."

Ravinia was silent for a long moment. "If…if I swear to keep your true past a secret," she said finally, each word sounding as if it were being wrenched from her, "Will you…let me live?"

"Your word means less than nothing to me." A'tro lifted her blade, ready to strike.

"Wait!" Ravinia choked out. A'tro could almost hear her swallowing her pride. "I—I'll serve you. I'll do anything you say."

"You're a liability," A'tro said softly, almost to herself. "And liabilities have to be removed."

The blade came down.

As A'tro strode out of the room and into the hallway, Zariel and Janeth fell into step behind her.

"In a few minutes, contact Academy security," A'tro said. "Inform them that Overseer Ravinia has suffered an unfortunate accident."

"Yes, Lord Wrath," Zariel said in a tone that indicated she understood all too well.

A'tro adjusted her gloves and continued on.